Salvaged, or, Dear Joe IV: Free-Range Balogna

Hahaha. I'll never forget those words (though that's only my best effort to reconstruct from memory what was actually said).

We stopped by the shop last night. Managed to bash my brains in on the car and prompt a laugh-fest doing so, but that's another story. Anyway, we were regaled with tips, tactics and theory in bombastic fashion and no uncertain terms. Seriously, the man was cool, helpful, and entertaining. Hooked us up with some stickers too. I grabbed some sweet speys (Gold Heron, Lady C...no, not that C).

Anyway, the place we ended up today, he had "joked" about a placemarker-shop that sold "free-range bologne." Weren't sure we were on the right track this morning until we actually saw a sign for "All Natural Free Range Bologna." Ain't that some shi.

Long story short, we got into some decent fish. Had at least 6 grabs, landed 1 swinging and 1 nymphing. Baulsir lost a couple and Gordy landed a jack. Pretty fish. Ran into a few other guys, including some poker/bald-face lying lowholing pinners, most were OK though. Bout the only interesting thing Bmar did was walk a half mile onto the reservation before we were able to get ahold of him and turn him around.

Back at the car packing up, the guy from the shop drops by to "check up" on us. A proud papa he was too when we informed him we got into some...hence the exclamation above. Anyway, feeling much better about the trip now. Almost wish we weren't headed east tomorrow, but you know what I say...there's always money in the banana stand.

Pics:

From across the river. Yup...that's an indicator. Swung up the one before it though, I swear.

Gordy's flawless skipper.

P.S. Took the hosts out for dinner tonight. Nothin special but it was fun. They sure seemed to enjoy it but in no way have we repaid their graciousness. Also...we are some ugly fools:

Not hard to define the center of hair-gravity in this photo.

Side note (12/13/2010); I'm 100% sure at least 75% of us did not shower between Tuesday night and returning home the following Sunday. Eat your heart out.

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